Letters To My Little Brother: Misadventures In Growing Older (2 page)

CHAPTER Two:

except sometimes you are

Dear Squirrel,

I’m just bullshitting you about the whole “you are never really alone” thing. Life, especially after college, is 84% about managing your loneliness and social isolation. The other 16% consists of pretending not to be lonely so that people think you’re a functional human being (which don’t actually exist, by the way). You’ll understand as soon as you start to call Netflix your best friend. That’s what happened to me. I got to the point where I was like, “I watch so much stuff because I work in TV and film. It’s part of my job to understand the cinematic universe. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I’m sad and misanthropic or that I believe the only thing I can truly rely on is a paid, online streaming service.” You will inevitably feel your happiness and sanity get sucked from your toes and fingertips by the Ghost of Loneliness Present. And when you start to notice these Dementors drain your essence — not in the
Dr. Strangelove
way — then you’ll realize that there is only one thing that can possibly make you feel worse: love.

See, love is the only thing on Earth that can ever make someone lonelier than they already are. Well, that and actually being alone. Like in the woods or something. Like James Franco in
127 Hours
and shit. That’s basically the loneliest. But that’s an outlier. Whatever. In normal social interaction you can make friends if you’re desperate. You can join a club or go to a MeetUp or just talk to random people on the street. But love is just about impossible to find. Instead of longing for the simple comfort of friends, you’ll start grasping for anyone that can release the butterfly net in your stomach once more. You won’t even care if love means drama and pain and suffering. You just want to feel something. I’d say it is like “emotional cutting,” except that cutting is already emotional. But nonetheless that desperation, my dear brother, is one of the most awful, wrenching sufferings in the human condition.

The next time you start to feel homesick or lonely, or the next time you look out your window at the brutal New England winter and wish for the warmth of North Carolina, I want you to remember one redeeming point: you are still not as lonely as I was in all of 2011-2013. Hopefully that provides you some solace. Your girlfriends — well, you haven’t had any — didn’t break your heart and stomp on it repeatedly before grinding it in a blender and forcing you to drink it. Mine, on the other hand, did. In the figurative sense at least. (That being said, what does a broken heart taste like? Is it something akin to bile and the taste of your ex-lovers’ chapstick? Or maybe that metallic taste of blood mixed with sweet, sweet memories of times gone by? How high do I rank on a scale of one to sociopath for asking these questions?)

That’s why I signed up for online dating this past Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t just because I wanted to get over my ex, Celine (even though that was like 99.99% of the reason), but also because my masochism had reached an all-time high. (The previous high had been forcing myself to watch all of 
Maid in Manhattan
…with commercials). I was so depressed that I was spending Valentine’s Day with my mom and sister — and not a beautiful, fun, sexy partner who made me feel like my lungs were on fire whenever I chanced a glance upon her green eyes — that I wondered if random strangers across the Internet might provide me with some sort of validation. As to your next question — whether they did or not — my answer is definitely fucking not. They honestly just made things worse.

I created a profile on the free online dating site OkCupid. When you enroll, you have to answer a bunch of open-ended questions about yourself in order to provide context/content for the people stalking you. Questions include “my self-summary,” “what I’m doing with my life,” “I’m really good at,” “the first things people usually notice about me,” and “I spend a lot of time thinking about.” These seem easy to answer, at least if you aren’t incredibly sarcastic and impatient like me. On my first go-round I answered everything stream of consciousness.

My Self-Summary:

I left it blank. I thought it made me seem more mysterious.

What I’m Doing With My Life:

Fuck this shit. This is the exact question that’s been the millstone around my neck for the last two years. How in the hell can I answer it for creepy girls online if I don’t even know how to answer it for myself?

Does anyone really want to hear that I’m attempting to become a self-publishing writer/blogger? I might as well say, “Hey, ladies, my name’s Matt and I’m completely incapable of providing for you either emotionally or financially. My heart’s been broken pretty bad and I don’t make enough money to buy a breakfast burrito at my local gas station. If you’re cool with telling your friends and parents that you’re dating a guy who spends 90% of his days in his pajamas writing sardonic stories about his life, then I’m you’re man.”

In order to show that I’m not a railroad hobo with a stick and a checkered knapsack on my back, I said I’m doing the wonderfully vague phrase “freelance writing.” I didn’t post the link to my blog because I don’t want anyone realizing I started this simply to a) pretend I don’t still love another girl and b) have really awkward stories to write about.

I’m Really Good At…

The first thing that came to mind was self-deprecating humor, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t win me any points with strangers. You’d seriously be stunned by the stuff people answer on these questions, though. I’ve seen so many people with thick black eyeliner and even thicker frowns who state that they “don’t open up well to people” and they “are cold and push people away” and “aren’t very friendly for the first few months.” Who on God’s green earth wants to go on a date with that person?? What does that first date look like?

Emo Girl
: “Yeeeeeaaaaaah…I kind of hate myself. And I don’t like you at all either. Black is the color of my soul.”

Emo Guy
: “That’s hot. Wanna make out because the only pleasure either of us will get out of life is by hate-fucking one another?”

Emo Girl
: “Yeah, okay. Will you just pick up the bill for my oysters? I can’t stand putting out and still having to pay for my own tab.”

Emo Guy
: “Only if you slap me and scratch me and tell me how hopeless and ugly I am when we’re making out.”

Emo Girl
: “Yeah. I can do that. I was actually gonna do it anyways.”

Emo Guy
: “Hot.”

It’s hard to provide specific answers with vague questions such as these. I tried to write jazz up my profile by using goofy things like “mixing unique Ben & Jerry’s flavors” and “devouring chocolate chip cookies” but I now realize I probably should’ve lied and said something to the tune of, “Lifting weights, life-changing sex, and backhanded compliments that make girls angry at (and therefore attracted to) me.” At least that’s what I saw work for guys in college…

The First Thing People Usually Notice About Me:

I didn’t want to say my Brad Marchand beak, so instead I said my height. He might be my favorite hockey player, but I’m not sure I want to liken my physical appearance to someone known as “The Nose.” On a positive note, I took out all the references to myself as “the Jolly Green Giant,” “Stickly McGoon,” “the emaciated, whinier version of the Scarecrow from 
Wizard of Oz
 without all the dancing skills,” and “Peter Pan minus the pre-pubescence and the tights.”

My Favorite Books:

I put Harry Potter, obviously, but I probably shouldn’t have put them in order from favorite to least favorite. That makes me seem as nerdy as I actually am. (Damn you, Matt! Why can’t you at least lie and make yourself seem cooler for once!?)

I Spend A Lot Of Time Thinking About:

Most people write something serious like “my future” or “my one true love” or “my family” or “world peace, an end to starvation, and all the bologna that a Miss America contestant would say.” I wrote the first thing that came to mind (and I quote): “which 
Fast & the Furious
 movie is my favorite. I’m leaning towards Tokyo Drift.” So far no one has messaged me about this. Does everyone really hate Lucas Black that much?

The Most Private Thing I’m Willing To Admit:

I had a lot of answers to this question. Most people answer, “I have this OkCupid account,” so I didn’t want to seem like a total poser by saying the same thing. I thought about being creative, especially since I have no sense of self-privacy whatsoever, but at least I had the common sense not to admit the actual size of my schwanz for all the world to see. In the end I settled on saying that I’m not too into French kissing. That actually scared a few people away. I went on multiple dates in which girls said they almost didn’t respond to me solely because I said that. Geez, talk about superficial…

Along with all the free response questions, OkCupid gives you hundreds upon hundreds of multiple-choice questions in order to better match you to potential partners. You put down your own answer, what you want your partner’s response to be, and how important this question is to you. Some of these questions make sense (ex. “How many dates would it take before you have sex with someone?”). Most of them, on the other hand, are fucking ridiculous.

These are some actual, honest-to-God questions from OkCupid (and my immediate reactions to them):

Would you lick your partner’s anus if they asked you to?

No. Wait — is it bleached? Just kidding. Still no.

Would you date someone who has been married?

Considering I’m looking for 22-25 year olds, no. Definitely not.

Would you date someone with a child?

See previous answer.

Would you be comfortable masturbating in front of your partner?

Mom reads my blog, so I abstain. (aka yes)

Would your ever break up with someone over email?

Hmmmm…depends. Have we reached the mutual masturbation stage yet (see previous

question)? Well either way, no.

Would you participate in a rape fantasy if your partner asked you?

Uhhhhhhh no? Is this a trick question or something?

Would you consider having an open relationship (i.e., one where you can see other people)?

No. Do people actually answer yes to this? I’m fundamentally opposed to ambiguous shit like that, mostly because I always seem to come out on the losing end.

During a romantic evening at your significant others’ house, he or she puts on a slow song and asks you to dance. How would you respond?

Ha! Been there, done that! I win! And yes, I would totally do it again.

In general, how content are you with your appearance?

I was pretty content with it until I joined this fucking site. Now I feel like a warty troll.

How many continents are there?

Who the fuck doesn’t answer 7 here? It’s not like it’s even debatable like, “How many planets are there? Does Pluto still count?”

What pubic hair style do you prefer for your partner?

I won’t reveal my answer because I don’t want anyone saying I’m a product of the flawless, hairless, Pygmalion view of women created by film, TV, and pornography, but I will say that I rated the question is “highly important” for my match.

Do you like hickies?

I’ve never met anyone who would answer yes to this…I hope.

Would you and your ideal match eventually feel comfortable farting around each other?

Muahahahahaha.

Do spelling mistakes annoy you?

Wht da fcuk due u th1nk?

How confident are you in your sexual abilities?

I was going to answer, “Honestly, I have no idea. It didn’t seem like any of them were faking,” but I decided I could get away with a white lie and just put “confident.” Gotta love the anonymity of the Internet sometimes.

Do you have an ex that you would really like to date again?

When I originally answered this question, I put “yes.” I still loved Celine. But then I realized I was an idiot and she was…let’s just say she wasn’t someone I agreed with on a mental, emotional, or spiritual level.

If you like someone a lot, do you usually ask them out?

Is there a time limit on how long it takes for me to do so? Like does taking a year to muster the courage count?

Are you Jewish?

No. Didn’t I put down that I was Catholic under the ‘religion’ section of my page?

Are you a Hindu?

Seriously: check the freaking ‘religion’ section of my profile.

Do you worship Satan?

Fuck you, OkCupid.

You might think that these questions are absurd in their own right, but their influence doesn’t end there. OkCupid then gives you a chart showing your personality traits as determined by their distance from the average. Here are mine in order of their distance from the mean: 

More arrogant
 — How do I hide this?? Fuck. Now people won’t think I’m as totally awesome as I really am [see what I did there?].